


Rite of a Name

by Hitsugi_Zirkus



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Birthday, Implied Relationships, M/M, Names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 23:43:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3400586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hitsugi_Zirkus/pseuds/Hitsugi_Zirkus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the precious memories were kept safely inside Clear like shiny treasures. And he commemorates one that's more special than the rest with the most important person in his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rite of a Name

**Author's Note:**

> I bit of Minkuri for my precious cuppycake's birthday~ A thousand thanks to tigerine who gave me the prompt; I do hope that it came out alright *fidgets* It's kinda funny to get this prompt after the meta I posted yesterday on Clear's name, haha. Anyway, I'll be attempting to also post a Clearao later today, so hopefully I can get that done!
> 
> Happy birth and name day, Clear~ uvu

At first, being able to go outside and be able to take off his gasmask was enough for the closed bud of Clear’s worldview to begin blossoming. He never felt particularly deprived or like a prisoner staying behind a mask and in a house in a dump; his years with his grandpa were some of the most precious of his life, after all. But it couldn’t be denied that the cautious life he’d had to adopt had kept him from many experiences, ones that any other human had.

That was something he realized during those first few months with Mink in America. The land - the _home_ \- that he knew Mink cherished so deeply was vastly different from that of Midorijima. There was so much more space, and the air was clean and open and full of life - a reminder, Clear thought as he looked to the once-burnt forest, of the cycles of life and death that Mink talked about. Most days while Mink was at work, Clear would walk out with Huracan and either sit in the clearing of the healing forest or pick one of the healthier trees to climb up on, just to feel the breeze and sing, intertwining his own melodies with that of the land.

In these everyday occurrences, Clear felt his heart become something more tangible. Not physically, of course, but he could sense his scope of the world broadening, and could feel all sorts of new sensation stir in his chest. Mink told him that it probably meant he was someone more like a human after all.

Winter left faster here. The mornings and nights were still very cool that Clear made sure Mink was bundled up warmly. At night, the wind still howled alongside the coyotes. But even so, the days got warmer and warmer, giving the impression of an early spring. Clear looked forward to the buds he already saw peeking out between tree roots.

And so Clear immersed his days in these experiences - the people, the language, the customs and the land. Not only for his own sake, but to connect and understand Mink as well, the person who also worked hard to make Clear see he was human.

The one custom Clear never thought about though was the one that was most common across cultures.

“Mink-san.”

“Hn?”

Clear called out into the living room where he knew Mink would be reading. It was soon going to get cold enough that Clear would need to get the fire going, as he’d been taught. After putting the logs in, he remembered something from earlier in his day.

“I noticed something when I went out for groceries today. It seemed there were a lot more children about town. Is it some holiday today that they didn’t have to go to school?”

Without glancing up, Mink explained, “You could say that. It’s a national holiday because of a political leader’s birthday.”

“Ehh? Is that really so?” Forgetting all about his task, Clear set his hands on the coffee table, looking up at Mink with wide eyes. “Is it really that important to celebrate a birthday that children are excused from school? Was there some party?”

“No, and I wouldn’t consider it a celebration so much as an observation.”

Clear tilted his head, trying to wrap his head around Mink’s wording. “But if it’s a holiday, isn’t it something to celebrate, like Christmas was?”

As if recalling the exact level of Clear’s “celebratory” spirit from Christmas, Mink finally put his book down to give Clear his full attention. “Holidays and birthdays can be celebrated, it’s true,” he said. “Though they don’t all require such extravagant measures.”

That made sense when Mink said it. Clear knew he was the type of person who didn’t do anything unnecessary and was also surprisingly humble, so it would fit that Mink didn’t adopt the same all-out way of celebrating that Clear thought of. Still, he couldn’t help but ponder more what Mink said, about birthdays being something to celebrate like holidays were.

When he looked back up, Mink was gazing expectantly back at him with his golden eyes as if to say, “What is it that you’re about to ask?”

Clear hummed in wonder. “If birthdays can be celebrated too, are they special as well?”

Mink blinked, as if surprised Clear would ask that. Then he took off his glasses, glancing off to the side in thought. “They can be. They are the day that marks the anniversary of an individual coming into this world.”

“So being born.”

“Yes.”

“A day for celebrating one’s birth…” Did that mean everyone he knew had a birthday? Did they celebrate with others the day they were born? Clear could understand how that would be a momentous day. After all, he had people he loved, and he’d love to commemorate the gratitude and happiness of them being born.

On that note… “Mink-san has a birthday?”

“Of course. Around a month before we started living together.”

“Uwaa, I missed celebrating something so special with Mink-san?” Clear started fretting, thinking of ways he could make up missing such an important day.

Mink shook his head. “It’s fine. I don’t celebrate that day.”

After the confusion and surprise, Clear’s shoulders drooped a little - could it be the reason was that Mink no longer had anyone to share such a time with? The thought saddened him, and the want to do something for Mink grew more. At the very least, he wanted to get rid of how lonely that sounded to him.

“I don’t have what you’d call a birthday, so I don’t celebrate that either,” Clear said, staring at his humanoid hands. “That is, I am a machine, so I wasn’t ‘born’, I was created. And I can’t even remember that time.”

For a long moment, Mink stared at him, almost in contemplation. Had he said the wrong thing? Maybe it was a sad thing for him to admit. But it wasn't self-deprecating; Clear knew he was who he was. His grandpa knew that too, which was probably why Clear never had something like a birthday.

“There’s another kind of day my people observed,” Mink finally began. “It was a day when one was recognized as an adult, and accordingly given a name that showed graduation from the childish ways of address. I too went through this ceremony, called a naming day. Perhaps you can find meaning in that.”

Clear marveled at the fascinating concept. “A naming day… Is it like a birthday?”

Again, Mink shook his head. “It’s different. Birthdays are celebrating the day you were born, but one can go through more than one cycle of life and death, as they are endless." He raised his brows to Clear to make sure he understood, which he did. As one who could not naturally die, Clear held Mink's teachings on mortality very close to him. Satisfied with Clear's attention, Mink went on, "Naming days are a significant mark of who you are, who you will become, and who you will leave behind. It’s a rite of passage that can happen only once.”

The gravity of the knowledge was given its due pause for contemplation. Then, “Are names really so special?”

“I can’t imagine you were ‘created’ with your name.”

Well, that certainly wasn't incorrect. Clear bit his bottom lip. “I only had a serial number.” He searched through his memories, remembering the day he woke up to see the gentle smile of his grandpa above him. He could see it with open eyes, and he couldn’t ever forget it. “When Grandpa named me ‘Clear’, I wasn’t just a machine that was a part of a series. I was - _someone_. That day, February twentieth, will be something I always cherish. It’s when my memories really began.”

Mink gave a sound of consideration, leaning back on the sofa. “That day holds significance to you for a reason then. Your own naming day.”

Warmth flooded Clear’s chest at the declaration. Although he wasn’t sure about the ceremonial aspects of a naming day, when Mink said it like that, that day sounded just as sacred somehow. Clear looked back at the memory with a renewed sense of fondness, and smiled.

“Apologies for the interruption,” Huracan said, rousing the other two’s attention to where he was perched on one of the wicker chairs. “But my sensors are indicating with the passage of nightfall, it has already dropped several degrees.”

“Ah, I’m sorry! I haven’t started the fire, I’ll do it now!” Clear jumped up and went back to tending to the fireplace, igniting the wood to bathe the room in warmth and soft light. He offered to make tea for Mink and himself, a soothing blend for the night, and gradually his content smile came back.

* * *

Three days passed quietly. When the twentieth of February came, Clear's curiosity was roused again, making him turn to the conversation he had with Mink. And so Clear spent most of the day thinking about his grandpa, the man he’d lived with fondly, and had made him someone new when he gave Clear his name. For probably the first time, he pondered over the possible reasons why he was named that. If Mink said that names were that special, then what did his grandpa mean by calling him Clear? Was there a meaning? He had mentioned that Clear reminded him of a jellyfish, perhaps that was it? It wasn't as if he could ask his grandpa anymore, so all he had were speculations. 

Well, it was fine to him at any rate. He wouldn’t want to trade who he was for the world.

_I wonder if that’s what Mink-san meant about the rite of a name can only happen once._

He twirled the feathers that Mink put in his thick hair around. “Huracan-san?”

“Hmm?” Huracan looked down at Clear from where he perched on top of Clear’s open door.

“When Mink-san first met Huracan-san, you were firstly Tori-san, yes?”

“That is so.”

“But when Mink-san decided to treat you less like a tool, and become someone precious to him, he gave you the name Huracan-san, right?”

Tilting his head in search of Clear’s point, Huracan answered, “I am not quite sure what it is Mink views me as. But if I were to put it humanely, I suppose I do feel more meaning in this name.”

Clear made an awed sound. So even Huracan went through that rite of passage of getting his own name, and having a more purposeful sense of ‘self’. 

The front door creaked open, halting his musings and Clear shot up happily. Huracan followed his bouncing steps to the door. Despite all of Mink’s stern looks and grunts, Clear couldn’t contain his happiness sometimes and simply needed to embrace Mink after not seeing him nearly all day (by this time, Mink didn’t even brace himself or flinch from Clear’s enthusiasm).

A few moments before he did though, he noticed the bag in Mink’s hand, seeming to contain some sort of box inside. It wasn’t unusual for Mink to bring some of his work home with him, but that was normally carried inside his own handmade bag. This looked store-bought, and Clear tilted his head at seeing it, inches from hugging him but instead his hands resting on Mink’s chest.

“Eh? Mink-san, what is this? I already have dinner ready, it’s just cooling right now…”

With only a nod, Mink went into the dining room to start setting the table without explanation. Although still confused, Clear nevertheless followed him, watching as Mink set the plates and silverware, then draping his coat over his chair. Clear got out their meal, still pleasantly warm, and lightly seasoned with the new herbs he’d seen in town. After prayers and their first few bites, Clear anxiously asked Mink about it, to which he got a terse, but positive answer that made him cheer happily.

The item Mink got sat on the table, and when Clear finished his meal, he realized that underneath the scent of spices on their plates was something sweet wafting in the air.

Finally, he couldn’t keep quiet about it. “Mink-san, you didn’t answer me before what it was that you brought home.”

Mink was gathering up their dishes, taking them to the sink to wash later before coming back with two smaller plates. “I wanted to wait until after dinner. Nourishment before eating anything else.”

“Ehh? Mink-san, you sound an awful lot like Grandpa.”

A short, amused chuckle left Mink at that. After putting the plates down, he took the box out and opened it. Inside was just as Clear expected, or at least knew had to be the source of the sweetness he picked up on. A pastry sat inside, a fruit tart by the looks of it, and not baked but nonetheless looking exquisite with its floral-like arrangement of peach slices and strawberries and kiwis, their rich juices making them glisten like gems as they were nestled into the golden crust.

“Uwaah, Mink-san, this looks delicious! But...what is it for?”

At that, Clear didn’t get an immediate answer. Since that happened sometimes just because of Mink’s personality, Clear didn’t question it, but when he glanced up, Mink’s gaze avoided his almost shyly as he tucked some hair behind his ear. Clear had seen the two gestures coupled very rarely, probably only once prior, but that was enough for him to guess at Mink’s embarrassment.

“I told you before that the naming day is special. Coincidentally, yours and your 'birthday' fall on the same day. I think there is plenty to commemorate today.”

Clear blinked.

"It _is_ February twentieth," Mink said, raising his brows as if needing to remind Clear himself.

Still speechless, the first tingles of warmth of feeling so _touched_ by a gesture so simple, Clear only watched as Mink wordlessly started cutting into the tart and then giving them each a slice. He started at the perfect petals of fruit, their sweet aroma mixing wonderfully with the cinnamon forever bonded with the walls of the home Mink built, the one he now shared with Clear. Mink had done this, just for him.

Clear stared down at the treat on his plate and sampled a bite at the same time as Mink. His sweet-favoring taste buds exploded wonderfully, making him moan in glee. “Ah! Mink-san, it’s so delicious!”

“That so. I don’t have the finesse to make this, but I thought a store-bought one would do.”

“Hehe, that’s funny to say when Mink-san makes such beautiful and delicate things all the time.”

That earned him a small scoff. “Food and ornaments are hardly the same thing.”

“Well, nonetheless, this is so tasty!” And so he continued digging into the dessert, Clear noticeably more enthused than Mink, but by the fond shine in his eyes, the enjoyment was nonetheless reciprocated. They ate in contented silence, Clear bouncing in his seat with each bite until they were done and Mink gathered up the plates again as Clear put the tart away for later (not before sneaking in two more strawberries, one into his mouth and another he gave the curious Huracan).

When he padded back out of the kitchen, the tender feelings in his chest seemed to grow tenfold upon laying eyes on Mink again. Clear was certainly happy from this alone of course, which was far more than he could've asked for; happy that he could be here as the human self that his grandpa had granted him that same day he’d given Clear his name.

Mink looked up at him. "What is it, Clear?"

_Aah, I’m really happy. Right now, Mink-san has given me such a wonderful present_.

More than anything, more than the delicious taste of the tart, of having been created at all, was that every day he could hear his most precious person say his name. That kind of acknowledgement, so normal to other people, was so loving from someone with as few words as Mink.

“Mink-san?”

“Hmm?”

As if to make up for before, he came closer and wrapped his arms affectionately around Mink. “Thank you.” He was sure his grin was ridiculously wide, but he hadn’t the care to reign his sheer bliss and love back.

But the corner of Mink’s lips quirked up, and he ruffled Clear’s hair. It was the only answer he gave but it was also all the answer Clear needed. He started to nuzzle into Mink's chest, earning him a resigned sigh but the soft pets kept running through the beads and feathers, and strands of his hair.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I made a reference to my other Minkuri with the Christmas thing; self-promotion galore *shot*


End file.
